We're a Happy Family
by SiennaR79
Summary: A story about Zack, closely following Battle of the Bands. Family therapy, crazy friends, school, your own rock band...sounds like a good time, doesn't it? --Updated: Chapter Four-- Fun times with Freddy....
1. Chapter One

My first SoR fanfic! cheers Well, here it is. I hope you like it. Just for background information: basically picks up where the movie left off. I'm assuming, for the sake of my story, that the Battle of the Bands thing happened around October. This isn't ALL about Zack, either, there's lots of the other characters.

And yes…I did create a character. winces Don't hurt me! I promise she's not a Mary Sue! If she ever becomes one (in the eyes of myself and my Beta), I'll drop her or give her a massive makeover.

Much thanks to Lyn for her help with this! :)

Please review, so I can know what to work on. Let me know if I ought to continue.

-Sienna

"Fix your tie," said Mr. Mooneyham.

Zack tugged the fabric around his neck. "Why do I have to wear a tie?"

"Because," said his father. He gripped the steering wheel a little harder every time he spoke. "You must make a good impression."

"Dr. Whitford is a highly acclaimed psychiatrist, Zachary," Mrs. Mooneyham said. "A very influential man."

Not saying anything, Zack loosened his tie. He was still in his uniform from school (_like a loser, _he thought) having been picked up from Horace Green. His father had even gotten off work early to make this appointment.

State's Bay Psychiatry, read the sign outside. Dr. Michael Whitford, Psychiatrist. Dr. Jennifer Malone, Psychologist. Therapy, Marriage and Family Counseling.

_ Family counseling…like this is going to help. _

The lobby was empty, save for the three Mooneyhams. Almost instantly Dr. Whitford ushered them into his office.

Actually, what passed for his office looked more like a well-decorated living room. Zack's parents seated themselves on the black couch and Zack flopped into the easy chair, ignoring his mother's hints to sit up straight, he slouched as low as he could without sliding off the cushion. There was an office chair, every bit as nice as the rest of the furniture, in which Dr. Whitford sat himself. He glanced down at a notebook in his lap before smiling and beginning.

"Mr. and Mrs. Mooneyham, Zack, I'm pleased to meet you. How's your day been? Is this the highlight so far?" The adults chuckled nervously at his little joke.

Dr. Whitford had an old face, but thick brown hair. _Toupee? _Zack wondered, then realized the doctor was looking at him.

"How was your day, Zack?"

Zack shrugged as best he could from his reclining position. "S'okay."

"Good, that's good. Well, before we get too deep into our discussion, I'll give you an idea of how this is going to work, all right?" He referred to the notebook again. "You're here of your own accord, that's good. The first step to making things better is recognizing they're not decent as they are. I'm going to do my best to help you understand and respect each other, and in here, there are few rules. You may cry, you may shout—in fact those are encouraged, if you feel so inclined—but unless we're doing a stress-relieving exercise, violence is never accepted."

"No one is violent in my family," said Mr. Mooneyham.

"Please forgive me, Mr. Mooneyham, I wasn't implying that they were…. So for our first session, I'm just going to try to get to know you all. Zachary?"

Zack looked up from his fascinating shoes.

"I hear you play guitar?"

"Yeah."

"And you're in a band?"

"Uh-huh."

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah."

"What kind of music do you play in your band?"

"Rock."

"Classic, Alternative, Heavy-Metal…?"

"Mostly classic. Ramones, Zeppelin, Who, that kind of stuff."

"Aha. And how did your father feel when you started playing this kind of music?"

Mr. Mooneyham almost started from his seat, but his wife and a look from Dr. Whitford held him back.

"He got pissed," Zack said.

"Zachary, honey, don't say pissed."

"Well he was." Zack looked from his mother, who had spoken, to the doctor. "He told me I could only play classical, and the stuff my guitar teacher gave me."

"And did you stop playing rock?"

"No."

"So you deliberately disobeyed your father—"

"Wait, no. I mean, yeah I didn't do what he told me, but it was a stupid rule. I'm the one playing, I should get to play whatever the he...whatever the heck I want."

"Sounds reasonable," said Dr. Whitford, and the look of annoyance on Mr. Mooneyham's face grew.

"Are you calling me unreasonable, sir?" Zack's father said through his teeth.

"Not at all, Mr. Mooneyham."

"Zachary is my son. The only thing I'm doing is looking out for his best interests. There is a future in classical guitar playing, orchestras, symphonies—"

"As if I would want to play there—"

"—not to mention it looks good on a college application. Any kid off the street can play rock—"

"That's not true!" said Zack.

"Please be quiet Zachary, this is your father's turn," Dr. Whitford said.

Zack crossed his arms. "Well he's being stupid. We talked about this before, Doc, it doesn't matter cause he won't listen to me anyway. You're wasting your time."

"Oh, I hope not…this was one of your complaints as well, wasn't it, Mrs. Mooneyham? That your husband doesn't listen?"

Mr. Mooneyham's eyes opened wide. "What is this?"

Zack looked at his mom, who laced and re-laced her fingers nervously. He knew that she hated fighting in front of other people.

"What have you tried to say, Cheryl?"

Now Mrs. Mooneyham cast a look at her son. "Not in front of Zack, Arthur. He doesn't need to hear this."

"Mrs. Mooneyham," said Dr. Whitford gently, "we're striving for openness here. The more Zachary knows about your problems, the more he can understand."

She sighed. "I went to the gynecologist two weeks ago—"

If it was possible, Mr. Mooneyham's eyes opened even wider, and his eyebrows shot up. "Zachary, leave the room."

"Okay," said Zack. He was out the door before Dr. Whitford could protest.

Zack walked out into the lobby, at the last moment remembering not to slam the door. It had become almost habit to him.

* * *

The lobby was almost as deceptively cushy as Dr. Whitford's room. There were two tan sofas, potted plants, soft classical music playing, and a big black easy chair in the corner occupied by another girl. She looked up as Zack sat down on one of the sofas.

"Screw it," he muttered, putting his head in his hands. "Screw them. This is useless…"

"Are you okay?" the girl asked quietly.

Zack looked up—she hadn't moved, except to lower her book slightly. _The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon_, by Stephen King.

"Would I be here if I was okay?" he said.

She shrugged. "You could be fine. One boy who comes here on Wednesdays—his parents think he has problems just 'cause he yells at them and doesn't go to school every day. He's really okay, though."

Nodding slowly, Zack stood up to grab a magazine and sat down on the couch again, nearer her big black chair.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Carolyn, but you could call me Cara and that would be nice," she said, not looking up from her pages. "You?"

"Just Zack."

"Nice to meet you, Zack."

"Same."

"Do you like Stephen King?"

"I dunno, I've heard he writes some scary stuff."

"Are you scared easily?"

"No…I guess I mostly just read magazines and stuff. And music, if that counts."

"Music counts. I used to read music, but not anymore."

"That's too bad."

Cara shrugged. "I read lots of books now." She pointed to the bag next to her chair, and Zack read the titles of the library-bound books. The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold, The Fourth Hand by John Irving, The Dead Zone by Stephen King, and Dracula by Bram Stoker.

"You like scary books, huh?" he said after a moment.

Frowning, Cara leaned over to look. "The Fourth Hand isn't scary."

"But Dracula is, isn't it?"

She settled back into her chair. "I guess so. But you know it's not real, like when you were little. Just pretend."

"Yeah, that's true." He watched a woman with owlish glasses enter the room from the offices, smile at him, then focus on Cara.

"Carrie? All ready?"

Carefully and diligently, Cara placed a long strip of paper between her pages and tucked the book into her tote, which she swung over her shoulder.

"Will you be coming back?" she asked Zack.

Zack listened closely for a minute. He thought he could still hear his father's familiar shouting through the thin walls.

"Probably."

"Okay. I'll see you again, then."

"'Bye," said Zack.

* * *

In the car on the way home, Zack watched the streetlights streak by from the backseat of the Mercedes-Benz. The entire ride was silent, except for one time when his father looked at his mother and said, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Mrs. Mooneyham held her husband's hand. She didn't answer him.

He was actually kind of glad his parents were in such a bad mood from the counseling. For once, they didn't seem to have the energy to yell at each other or him, since they'd been doing it with gusto for the last hour. _Maybe this is how counseling really works_, Zack thought. _It just makes people so sick of dealing with their problems that they don't want to think about them anymore. _

* * *

"Freakin' rain," grumbled Freddy, sliding into the empty seat beside Zack at lunch. "I hate rain."

"At least we aren't wasting beautiful, sunny days by staying inside," said Katie optimistically.

Freddy waved his muffin. "Katie, if I feel like complaining about the weather, I'm going to do it, okay?"

"Oookay."

"It should be snow soon," Zack said, looking out the far window.

"If by 'soon' you mean a month, then yes," said Summer. She flicked her hair as she sat down beside Katie. "Zack, you weren't online last night. I couldn't send you the practice schedule for next week."

"Oh, sorry," he said. "I was out till late last night."

"Busy life?" Freddy asked.

"Not really…parents and stuff."

"Oh," said his friend, becoming a little more serious. "How's that going, man?"

Zack shrugged. How was it going? "They're going to counseling. I guess that should help." He didn't mention that he was joining them for the sessions with Dr. Whitford, at least part of the time—it just seemed odd. Like he was going to the shrink, and there was nothing wrong with him.

"My mother goes to a psychiatrist," Summer said. "But she has a very high-stress job, you know. Her doctor recommended it, for her health…oh, no."

"God, here they come," said Katie, suddenly completely occupied by unwrapping Freddy's muffin.

Zack smiled, chuckling internally. The True Groupies—as Katie referred to Marta and Alicia, as well as Michelle and Eleni—were making a beeline for their table.

"Can't they go anywhere alone?" Katie sighed.

Summer wrinkled her nose. "Can you spell 'codependent'?"

"No," answered Freddy and Zack truthfully.

"Hey Summer!" the four girls chorused. Marta stood at the front of the others, frizzy pigtails a-flipping. "Hi Zack, Katie. Hey, Freddy."

They murmured his and heys.

"Look Freddy, it's _Marta_," Katie whispered devilishly.

"Shut up," Freddy hissed. He pulled his muffin out of her hands and started eating like he hadn't been fed in days.

Summer sipped her juice and turned to face them. "So, what can I do for you girls?" she inquired, all business.

"We were wondering if there was still practice today," said Marta, the temporary spokesperson.

"Why wouldn't there be?"

"Well, it's raining really hard."

"Neither rain, nor sleet, nor dark of night shall stop the School of Rock…" Zack said under his breath. Katie chuckled.

"Marta, unless the school's under six feet of water, you can safely assume the band will be having practice," said Summer.

They collectively sighed. "Okay, just checking. See ya tonight then…'bye, Freddy."

"Later," Freddy said.

"I'm sorry," Katie began once they had gone, "they really are nice. I mean, Alicia's really funny, and sarcastic and whatever, but her heart's in the right place, you know? And Marta's really nice, she's always…friendly…argh. Freddy, you want my muffin too?"

"You're not going to eat it?" Katie shook her head and dropped it on his tray.

"I know what you mean," said Summer. "I used to be close with Michelle and Eleni too. They're fine one-on-one, but together they get…silly."

"Giggly?"

"Exactly. The more people they're around, the fewer brain cells between them."

"Whatever. Marta annoys me."

Katie pretended to be shocked. "What, Freddy? I thought you _liked_ Marta. She says you do."

Freddy rolled his eyes, his mouth full of food. "I 'id 'ike heh." He swallowed. "As a friend. She used to be cool to just goof off with."

"Now the band has gone to her head," Zack said.

"Yeah."

"We haven't changed, have we?"

They looked at each other. Before the band, Summer and Katie usually ate with the other four girls and Tomika. It was pretty much an even split—the girls ate with the girls, the boys with the boys. Only since School of Rock was formed did Katie and Summer realize they were more comfortable with their guy friends. As for Zack and Freddy, they were definitely more comfortable around these easygoing girls than they were, say, Billy.

"If we have changed, it's only for the better," Summer declared.

Katie pushed her food-filled tray at Freddy. "I just lost my appetite."

"Sweet, more for me."

Freddy bolted down what he could manage of Katie's lunch, trying to beat the bell. When it rang signaling the end of lunch, he and Zack walked back to class together, neither in a great hurry to sit down and be bored to tears by Mrs. Dunham again.

"So is counseling okay?" Freddy asked quietly.

"Yeah, it's okay," Zack said. Of course Freddy would realize that it was family counseling, not just marriage, and Zack would be there. _He's not as stupid as he acts._

"Is your dad still on your case?"

"Not so much. He fights with my mom more now though."

"That sucks. But hey, at least your parents don't gang up on you."

"Yeah," Zack admitted. They entered the classroom and he took his seat in front of Freddy.

"Maybe my parents should try it," said Freddy.

"Things still the same?"

Mrs. Dunham stood up and began calling the class to attention. Freddy dropped his voice, leaning forward.

"As ever. They tell me to go to my room, I tell them to go to hell." He grinned.

Zack laughed and turned around, but not before he noticed the big dark circles under his friend's eyes. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who didn't sleep much last night.


	2. Chapter Two

Yay for chapter two…thanks to Nanners-77 and the lovely Miss Riley for reviewing! I'm so glad you think it's good! (Yes, I do need that kind of reassurance in my life…haha….) Maybe you could tell other people to read my story? (shameless self-promotion) Well, start telling me what you all think of Cara in these next few chapters…. Hope you enjoy this installment! :)

Thanks again to Lyn!

-Sienna

P.S.: I don't own School of Rock. I'm not making any money, so don't sue me. (Always forget the disclaimer.)

* * *

Chapter Two

**pinhead78:** hey

**ONotAStarX:** hi whats up

**pinhead78:** nothing u?

**ONotAStarX:** same…I'm bored

**pinhead78:** me too

**pinhead78:** how do u think practice went today?

**ONotAStarX:** ok…we need some new stuff tho

**pinhead78:** yeah

**ONotAStarX:** if Dewey tells Alicia and Marta to listen to the bass one more time I'm gonna scream

**pinhead78:** haha i know

**pinhead78:** at least they're listening to u instead of Freddy

**ONotAStarX:** ya it's nice to be listened to…

**ONotAStarX:** I have an idea though

**ONotAStarX:** want to hear it?

**ONotAStarX:** hello?

**ONotAStarX:** Zack!

"ZACHARY!"

"WHAT?"

"COME HERE!"

Reluctantly Zack made his way down the steps, through the living room and into the glittering kitchen. Mrs. Mooneyham was scrubbing away at the sink.

Arthur Mooneyham looked uncharacteristically tired, sitting at the table with his hand on his graying temple. His voice, however, was strong, and his tone firm as ever.

"I need your practice schedule for the rest of the week. We've got another appointment with Dr. Whitford on Thursday at four, so you should bring a change of clothes with you to school…and, er, something to occupy yourself, in case your mother and I talk alone, like before."

"No tie?" asked Zack, thinking about what "a change of clothes" might mean.

Mr. Mooneyham winced visibly. "Jeans are fine."

"Okay. Is that it?"

Shrugging, his father looked to his mother. Zack moved to leave, but Mrs. Mooneyham jerked up.

"Sweetie, there was some mischief on Columbus Road the other night. You wouldn't happen to have heard anything about it, have you?"

"Mischief?" Zack repeated.

"Probably just some kids from Creekside, Cheryl," Mr. Mooneyham dismissed.

Columbus Road was only two streets away in Zack's neighborhood. He lived on Narrow Hill Court, which linked to Tollgate Street, which ended on Oak Road. One of the nice things (or bad things, depending on how you looked at it) about the housing situation was that half the children who attended Horace Green lived within walking distance of the school, and each other. The other two major neighborhoods lay on the other side of Oak Road.

But the further south you went on Oak Road, the worse the neighborhoods on either side became. Creekside was a local set of developments—average, middle-class houses—and below that by some six miles was the town of Abery, which was nothing more than projects and trailer parks. Kids were always sneaking up and down Oak Road to see the other side of the social spectrum.

"You don't know that," said Mrs. Mooneyham. "You can't blame someone else for everything."

Zack looked at his disheveled mother, up to her elbows in yellow latex gloves, a smudge of Comet on her cheek. Her hair was falling out of its ponytail, too.

_And she yells at me for hanging around in T-shirts?_

"Are you asking if I know who did it?" he said, "or do you think I had something to do with it?"

"Darling, I just want to know what you know—"

He wished she would quit it with the pet names. "I don't even know what happened."

"Someone spray painted a couple garage doors with satanic symbols and inane language," said Mr. Mooneyham. "I think they egged a few places, too."

"Weird. Sounds like someone with nothing better to do," said Zack. _Honestly, I don't really care._

"Well, if you hear anything…I know you're so popular with the other kids in the neighborhood. It was probably a kid who did it, you know."

Internally, Zack rolled his eyes. "Mom, if I do hear anything, it'll be from one of my friends, because they're the only ones I talk to. And I'm not going to rat out any of my friends." _Especially to you._

"Okay, Zachary sweetie," Mrs. Mooneyham said, fixing a big smile on her face.

"That's all, son."

Zack left the kitchen quickly, but after a moment's thought, slowed his pace and took a seat on the dark stairs. He had a feeling there would be a fight—and not that he especially wanted to hear it, but he wanted to understand just how his parents were thinking. _Isn't this what therapy is supposed to help with?_

"What was that, Cheryl?" came his father's voice, distant.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you practically just accused our son of vandalizing the neighbors's houses. Do you have some evidence? 'Cause I'd sure as hell like to hear it."

"I just asked, Arthur. There's no harm in asking questions, Dr. Whitford says so."

"He didn't say to ask them in such an accusatory way."

"I wasn't—"

"And we were just making progress—letting him dress down, planning the appointments around his band time, showing that we approve just like Dr. Whitford said—"

"You call that progress?" Something crashed to the floor, and Zack jumped despite himself. Had his father pushed his mother? But no, Mrs. Mooneyham must have dropped a pot or something, because there was a low cuss and then her voice came back loud.

"Did you hear how you called him? Like he was in trouble! And now I'm the accusatory one?"

"I did not—"

"Yes you did, Arthur! He came down here ready to pee his pants!" (_What the hell, _thought Zack. _I was annoyed, not scared!_) "Your son is so afraid of you he doesn't know how to accept it when you're decent, rare as that is."

Now there was a thud, like Mr. Mooneyham pounding his fist on the table. "Zachary is NOT afraid of me! He respects me! Which is more than I can say for how he feels about you!"

That was all Zack could take. _They sound like six-year-olds…'You're stupid!' 'Well, you smell bad!' _

He went back to his room and checked his computer.

**ONotAStarX: **ok your not there****

**ONotAStarX: **fine****

**pinhead78: **sorry

**pinhead78:** what was ur idea

**ONotAStarX: **never mind

**pinhead78:** no really, what was it?

**ONotAStarX: **forget it

**pinhead78:** Katie, tell me

**ONotAStarX signed off at 8:34:42 PM.**

* * *

On Thursday, Freddy and Frankie hung out with Zack for a few minutes after school while he got changed. Freddy clearly knew where Zack was going, but he played along with Zack's excuse of "doctor's appointment". He amused himself by making wads of wet toilet paper and sticking them to the ceiling.

"Go online tonight," Zack said as they parted. "I'll tell you about it."

Frankie just shrugged, but Freddy nodded. "I'll make sure you're not dying."

In the car, his parents talked idly about nothing in particular. They arrived at the State's Bay Psychiatry building soon and found Dr. Whitford once again, waiting for them in the empty waiting room.

"I'm going to start by just talking to your parents today, Zachary," said Dr. Whitford in the voice most people save for children under five. "Is that okay?"

"Sure, whatever."

The doctor smiled knowingly, and led his patients into his office.

Zack scanned his choices for seats. The black chair looked inviting, but for some reason, he really didn't want to sit in it. So after a moment he sat in the same spot as the other day, on one of the tan sofas, slightly near the black chair but not too close. He put on his headphones and selected a track he thought fit—Psycho Therapy by the Ramones.

_I should have tried to talk to Katie today,_ he thought. _Is she mad at me? She seemed okay in school, but didn't talk to me much…and she did seem annoyed online. Maybe Freddy knows what's up, maybe she told him her idea. Whatever it was. _

_ Can I go over Freddy's this weekend? Is he grounded?_

_ Hey, it's that girl from last week._

"Hi, Zack," Cara said, sitting down right away in the big black chair. She came from the back, where the offices were.

"Hey," said Zack. "Did you just get out of there?"

"Yeah," she said, selecting _Dracula_ from her assortment of books. "Now I have to stay here until five thirty, when my grandmother comes to pick me up."

"Oh, that sucks."

She tilted her head, biting a strand of mousy brown hair. "I dunno. I'd just be reading at home anyway."

"That's cool, then."

"It works…what are you listening to?"

"This?" He held up his CD player. "The Ramones." He could tell by her blank nod that she had no idea who they were.

"That's nice."

"Yeah."

They were quiet for a minute. Zack couldn't tell if she wanted to be left alone—she looked at her book halfheartedly—but he was kind of curious to talk to someone. Someone else who went to a shrink.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Ten," Cara answered. She closed her book and sat up a little. "How old are you?"

"Almost eleven. But still ten."

"What school do you go to?"

"O'Brian Elementary. You go to Horace Green, right? I saw your uniform the other day."

"Yeah. I hate uniforms."

"Why are you here? You're perfectly normal."

Zack laughed at little at being called "perfectly normal". _As though you can perfect normalcy…oh, that sounds kinda cool. I should remember that._

"My parents and I don't get along," was how he put it. "We see Dr. Whitford."

"I know Dr. Whitford," Cara said, nodding. "I used to see him and Dr. Malone. But a couple of months ago I stopped going to him and switched to Dr. Malone entirely."

"That's…wait, how many months have you been going to a shrink?"

"Shrink is a weird word…I don't get it…oh and," she counted on all her fingers, then paused, "about a year and a month."

"Jeez! Why?"

"Stuff happened."

"Obviously—" Zack began, but dropped out when it occurred to him the kinds of things kids went to therapy for, without their parents. She might have been hit, or abused some other way, like the kids on the news. Maybe she was kidnapped. Maybe—

"No one hurt me," Cara said. "They never touched me." She looked down at her closed book, outlining the bloodsucking monster's picture with her index finger. Her shirt was too big for her; its faded blue stripes hung over her hands.

There was something disturbing about the weight with which she said the pronoun "they". _Someone did something_, he reasoned. _I won't ask anymore though…but I wanna know…no, this is one of those privacy things. I think. She's definitely not "perfectly normal" though._

Dr. Whitford's door opened, and Mr. and Mrs. Mooneyham stepped out.

"Zachary?" Dr. Whitford called. "Ready to come talk to me alone?"


	3. Chapter Three

ANOTHER chapter! Already! Haha, this stuff is too much fun to write, really. Thanks to Riley, maroonedpirate and Ace, I love all your reviews…but you're going to have to keep guessing, Riley. I don't know how your story inspired me, but it just did, it made me wanna write about these kids. Cara having an eating disorder is a good guess…but it's something very different…you'll find out, promise. :)

Thanks to Lyn for Freddy's screenname!

Oh, and please r&r my other (more lighthearted) story, _Strange Holiday_!

-Sienna

* * *

Zack sat down in the same chair he'd used before, on his previous visit to Dr. Whitford's living-room-like office. The doctor scooted his rolling chair closer. His notebook was open on his lap.

"So how are you since our last visit, Zachary?" Dr. Whitford asked, his pen poised over the page.

"Fine," said Zack.

"How's your band?"

"Good."

"Good, that's good. You have lots of friends in the band, your parents tell me?"

"Yeah," Zack said, thinking that was a kind of weird thing for his parents to mention. "They're all kids from my class in school, so I know like everybody."

"Tell me about them."

"Everyone?"

"Well, the ones who are most important to you."

"Okay…well, first there's Freddy. He's like my best friend I guess…he plays the drums, he can be really crazy but he's a good guy. He always knows when there's something bugging me or whatever. And I can talk to him about stuff, so I guess that makes him my best friend."

"It's always good to have someone to talk to, isn't it?"

"Sure. Plus, he has a lot of the same problems as me, so…yeah."

"He understands where you're coming from?"

"Yeah."

"Even better. Who else are you friends with?"

"Frankie is cool. We're not that close, but we hang out sometimes, you know?"

"I know what you mean."

"And then there's Katie, I think we're really good friends. But right now…I dunno, I think she's mad at me."

Dr. Whitford made a note of something. Zack watched the pen move.

"Why would she be mad at you?"

"What are you writing?"

"Just notes. Why would she be mad? Does she get mad often?"

Zack frowned. "No, hardly ever. She's really nice, but quiet. Sometimes I thinks she feels left out…and the other day, she was going to tell me something, but my dad yelled at me to come downstairs and when I got back she was all annoyed and wouldn't tell me."

"What did she say?"

"Just, like 'fine' and 'forget about it' and stuff. Then she signed off."

Dr. Whitford nodded and made another note. "And you haven't talked to her since then?"

"Not really."

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"What?" Zack said, surprised. "I mean, no. I'm ten years old, Doc. That's teenager stuff."

The doctor smiled. "Ah, the innocence of the young…."

Zack stared at him. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"No, no, best you figure things out for yourself."

"But it's your job to help me figure things out. That's what we're paying you for."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Dr. Whitford rose and walked over to a little egg timer on his desk. As he touched it, it binged, signaling the end of their time.

"We'll have to continue this conversation at a later date," he said. "Would you like to come see me again, privately? Without your parents?"

"Why? I don't have any problems, except for them."

"I don't know. I think you're a very complicated young man, Zachary, but you just don't realize it." He walked over to the door and held it open.

Zack went out, stopping only in the doorway to give the doctor a weird look. He didn't like being called complicated. He was how he was. It wasn't any shrink's business to try and figure out why, unless he killed somebody or something.

His parents sat on the sofa, casting nervous glances alternately at each other, or at Cara, who was pretending not to notice them. She gave Zack a half-smile.

"See you Monday," said Dr. Whitford to his patients.

"See you Monday," echoed Cara softly.

Zack had a feeling she would be there.

* * *

**pretty111vacant:** hey

**pinhead78:** hey man

**pretty111vacant:** how was the doc thing

**pinhead78:** ok I got to sit in the lobby most of it

**pretty111vacant:** cool

**pinhead78:** have u talked to Katie?

**pretty111vacant:** ya she was online earlier

**pinhead78:** was she in a bad mood?

**pretty111vacant:** no she was fine

**pinhead78:** I think shes mad at me

**pretty111vacant:** y

**pinhead78:** I dunno really

**pinhead78:** I was talking to her yesterday when my dad yelled at me so I had to go…and when I came back she wouldn't talk to me

**pretty111vacant:** ya she mentioned somethin like that

**pinhead78:** what did she say?

**pretty111vacant: **she had a few good ideas for the band

**pinhead78:** like what?

**pretty111vacant:** im not sposed to tell

**pretty111vacant:** ask her urself

**pretty111vacant:** 609-662-0932

Zack sat back and looked at the phone number Freddy had just given him. Should he call Katie? _What if she doesn't want to talk to me? But I won't really get a chance to talk to her tomorrow in school, and then it's the weekend…I probably should call her. Is that weird, to call her?_

_ No, it's just like calling Freddy or Frankie. Only you've never done it before, and she's a girl. But since you're friends it's okay._

_ Right, phone…._

He went into the den to use the phone. It was only a little after seven. _Not too late to call, right?_ He dialed and it began to ring.

"Hello?" said a female voice, too mature to be Katie's.

"Hi. Is Katie there?"

"Whom shall I say is calling?"

"Zack."

"Who?"

"Zack Mooneyham…I'm a friend from school."

"Okay, hold on."

He waited, hoping her mother or whoever had answered the phone wouldn't tell Katie it was him.

"Hi."

"Hey, Katie. It's Zack."

"I know. What is it?" she said in a way that he heard, "what do_ you_ want?"

Zack sighed and decided to be blunt.

"Are you mad at me?"

There was a pause. "Maybe."

"Why? Because of yesterday?"

He heard shuffling, like she shrugged with the phone on her shoulder. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry I disappeared like that…I wanna hear your ideas, Katie."

"It just bothers me. I mean, I was getting ready to tell you something important and you were just gone. I kept waiting for you to come back."

"I did come back."

"Yeah, but not for like 20 minutes."

"Well, I'm sorry, okay?"

"Okay."

Zack thought a little before speaking again. It seemed unusual for Katie to get so ticked about such a little thing. But then he thought about what he'd told Dr. Whitford that day, about how he figured she felt left out sometimes. _I don't think she's so mad at me for disappearing, but more like…she's feeling ignored again…._

"So what were your ideas?" he asked finally.

"Okay, well, I talked to my uncle last week," she said, back to her normal self. Zack could tell she was excited about whatever she had to say. "And he's got this friend from high school who works at a music and DJ supply store, you know? And he said…if we wanted to use their studio…he'd give us a price break on recording time."

"Recording? Like—"

"Like making a CD, yeah."

"Dude, that would be cool!"

Katie laughed. "You sound like Freddy. That's almost exactly what he said when I told him."

"Well, it is! And he's my best friend, so yeah. Have you told Summer yet?"

"No, I wanted to run it by you guys first. You know, Summer can be really…not nice…when she thinks you're wasting her time."

"I thought you were friends with Summer."

"I am! We are. I mean, it's just…I dunno. She's great, and I definitely get along with her better than I do with Marta and Eleni and all the other girls." He heard the shrugging noise again.

"But…" Zack prompted.

Katie sighed. "But…she's not my best friend."

"Oh. So who is?"

"No one, but I'm taking applications."

Zack chuckled. "Who's left? If you don't like Marta, Alicia, Eleni and Michelle, and Summer's your friend but not your best friend—"

"And Hillary moved away," Katie interrupted, reminding him of the girl who had been in their class last year.

"Right, she's gone—you were pretty close to her, weren't you?"

"Yeah. It sucks."

"Yeah…Tomika?"

"I don't really know her…. I dunno, you can't just pick best friends, you know?"

"True." He tried to think of something to say. "Well, I'll have to check with Freddy, but I'm pretty sure you're always welcome to hang with us."

The smile in her voice was audible. "Really?"

"Of course. You're not all girly, I'm sure it'd be cool." He remembered the summer before last, when he'd gone over Freddy's house almost every day. He lived on the other side of Oak Road, in the same neighborhood as Katie, Hillary and a bunch of other kids from school. Katie and Hillary were the girls who climbed through the woods and built forts with the boys, instead of riding pink bicycles in endless circles with the other girls.

"Thanks, Zack."

"No problem."

"Hey, I've gotta go—my sister needs help with something. I'll see you in school tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, see you."

"'Bye!"

Zack hung up, feeling much better and extremely glad he called. _I forgot about Hillary. Imagine how bad that would suck to have your best friend move away, and there's no one else you really like in your class…._

A calendar next to the window caught his eye. He walked over to it, counting out the days until November 18th. _Thirteen days until my birthday,_ he thought, only mildly excited. Birthdays weren't a big deal in his family. He'd probably get a few video games and a cake, and money from relatives…and he'd be a year older. _Thirteen days until I'm eleven._

Suddenly, he thought he saw something through the window, moving around in his backyard. He cupped his hands over the glass and peered out, just in time to see a dark figure dart across the lawn and into the bushes on the other side.

Zack went to the back door and locked it.


	4. Chapter Four

Hey, sorry I'm so late in updating this…this chapter had me kinda stuck, and I don't think it's especially good, but stuff had to happen before other stuff can happen. You know? Haha

Much thanks to Riley, wiseoldman, Strokes, HollyGaydos and rockin awesome x. Yay, people are starting to notice my Ramones references! There are more throughout the story…well, actually only one major one, other than Zack's CD…what can I say, I love them. I'm going to put more in here. :)

Hope you like! r & r!

-Sienna

* * *

Chapter Four

"So, Zachary," said Mr. Mooneyham on the way to Horace Green the next day. "What're your plans for today and tomorrow?"

Zack thought. It was Friday, he had band practice. Then he was thinking maybe he'd walk over to Freddy's and hang out there on Saturday. Maybe Katie could come. _She would like that. _

"I dunno," he said to his father, "practice tonight, of course. I might go over Freddy's house tomorrow or something."

Mr. Mooneyham nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. "Do you think you could sleep over Freddy's tonight? Would that work?"

"I'd have to ask him and his parents…why?"

"Your mother and I have some things to take care of," Mr. Mooneyham said. "She's got a doctor's appointment in Ringfield, and I need to take her."

"Doctor's appointment?" Zack repeated. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine, Zachary." Mr. Mooneyham seemed sincere but agitated at the same time. Anxious. "Anyway, it would be easier if we knew you were safe at a friend's house."

"Okay," said Zack. "I'll talk to Freddy today."

There was a pause. "Actually—check my cell phone, would you? Do I have the Jones's number in my phone book?"

They pulled into the school parking lot. Zack flipped open the little silver phone and clicked through numbers. "609-662-3483, that's them."

"Good, well, I'll just give Mr. Jones a call today, then."

Zack opened his door, gathering his messenger bag of books. "'Bye, Dad."

"Before you go, Zachary…the Bennison's…" he trailed off.

Zack stood besides the car and waited for him to finish, even though he knew what his father was thinking. He'd been waiting the entire car ride to see if Mr. Mooneyham would bring this up. Zack had noticed it too, on their way down Narrow Hill Court. A big red A within a circle spray-painted on the Bennison's garage and front doors.

Mr. Mooneyham swallowed and broke his son's gaze. "Er, have a good day at school, Zachary."

* * *

That day passed more slowly than seemed possible. The sky outside was an undecided gray, sometimes looking like rain and other times like sun. Freddy amused himself through the morning by writing "hello" on the back of Zack's neck, so lightly Zack couldn't feel it. He didn't even know it was there until lunch, when Katie said, "hi, Zack's neck." So Zack got to spend his lunch break in the bathroom, trying to scrub off the ink and getting his collar soaked in the process. He managed to get Freddy pretty wet too, so it wasn't wasted time.

For such a long day, it sure seemed like nothing happened. The afternoon dragged on and on, until Freddy dropped a note on Zack's shoulder.

Assuming he was meant to read it, Zack unfolded the piece of paper that said "Freddy" on the front.

_Should I tell Summer and Dewey my idea tonight? Ask Zack what he thinks too. Katie. _

Beneath that Freddy had scrawled,

_Yeah, it's good. –Freddy_

_Go for it,_ Zack wrote, then refolded the note and put Katie's name on the front. He had just passed it back when Freddy tossed another piece of paper onto his desk.

This one was a lot messier, just a shred of paper wadded up into a ball. Zack tried not to make too much noise as he opened it.

_Dude, Marta is staring at me. Make her stop._

Both the boys looked over. Marta was giving Freddy the eye, in fact, as much as little girls like her know how. After a moment a fit of giggles seized her, and she turned around. Zack shook his head at his best friend as if to say, "what can you do?"

Freddy's look of disgust was priceless.

* * *

Zack sat on the curb outside School of Rock's headquarters, waiting for Freddy's mom to come pick up him and Freddy. He strummed a few idle chords on his guitar. Mrs. Jones was always late.

"I think we should do something crazy tonight," said Freddy, throwing rocks into the street.

"Like what?"

Summer came out of the building, and gave them a little wave before her mother came around the corner.

"Is Katie still up there?" Freddy was distracted.

"I think so. Talking to Dewey."

"What're we going to do tonight that's crazy?" Zack asked, trying to subtly get his friend back on track.

"Huh? Oh, I don't know." Freddy threw another rock. "I'm just bored, is all."

The door behind them swung open again, this time ushering Katie and Dewey Finn, their band leader, out in the chilly evening.

"Zack Attack!" Dewey exclaimed upon seeing the boy. "Man, I've got the department on speed dial now. You were on fi-re tonight!"

Zack laughed. "Thanks, Dewey."

"I'll see you kids later—wait—you've all got like, parents coming and stuff, right?" He repeated the words to himself, making sure he'd said what he meant to say. It was funny to watch a man like Dewey try to be responsible. His brain just wasn't made for it.

"My mom'll be here any hour," said Freddy.

"I'm going home with him," said Zack, indicating to his backpack.

"Right, cool. Posh?"

Katie nodded.

"Okay, I'm going upstairs then—there's a Friends rerun I haven't seen on at eight. Keep thinkin', Katie!" With a last grin, he disappeared back inside the door.

Katie joined her friends on the curb. "So you're staying with Freddy tonight, Zack?"

"Yep," Zack said.

Freddy spoke quickly, almost cutting him off. "Why do you talk to us, Katie?"

"What? Why wouldn't I talk to you?"

He kept staring out at the darkening street, but there weren't any more rocks to throw. "You hardly talk to Dewey, or any of the other band people. Why do you talk to us?"

Zack stopped strumming. _Is Freddy thinking about what he's saying?_ he wondered. _He's not being very nice…._

To Zack's mild surprise, Katie didn't seem bothered by Freddy's sharp manner. "I have stuff to say to you guys," she said with a shrug. "That's all."

"Okay." Freddy drummed his fingers on the concrete now, still watching the streetlights across the road. "Want to come over and play video games with me and Zack after dinner?"

"Sure, if I can. I might have to clean or something."

"Cleaning's for losers, Katie. Come hang out with us."

Katie didn't say anything, but she lifted her thumb and finger to her forehead in the shape of an 'L'. "If I wasn't a loser, I wouldn't hang out with you guys." Her mother's car pulled around, and she got in.

"Where is my freakin' mom," Freddy groaned.

"That her?" asked Zack.

"Oh. Yeah."

They piled into the car behind the blonde Mrs. Jones. (Unlike Freddy's hair, Mrs. Jones's wasn't entirely natural.) Once at Freddy's house, the boys grabbed chips and sodas and took to the basement.

"Want to play Foosball?" Zack asked.

Freddy sat down behind his drum set. "Maybe later."

"X-box?"

Zack's friend shook his head and began twirling his drumsticks, as was habit by then.

"Okay, give it up Jones," said Zack, sitting on the couch. "What's bothering you?"

"What? Nothing. I'm cool," Freddy assured him.

Zack snorted. "So cool you're a vegetable. You've been spacing for the last hour…what's up?"

"Nothing, man, really. My mind's just somewhere else."

"Like where?"

Freddy shrugged.

"Look, they had these walls soundproofed," he said, banging on them with his fist.

"Cool. Now stop changing the subject."

"Maybe I—"

"FRED!" Mrs. Jones screeched. Zack and Freddy winced.

"WHAT, MOM?"

"KATIE!"

"She's here," Freddy said, grinning. Zack decided he knew enough to let it go.

Katie appeared in the stairway, stomping in her too-big combat boots, toting her bass along. "Hey boys!" she said, smiling brightly.

"Katie!" they both called.

"What's up? Haven't talked to you in minutes!" She seemed more lively than Zack had ever seen her, even twenty minutes ago at band practice. There was a change in her face—like when someone who wears too much makeup cleans up, and they're brighter for it. Only Katie didn't wear makeup, so he wasn't exactly sure how that analogy worked.

"We just got home," said Freddy. "What do you wanna do?"

"I can only stay until nine-thirty," Katie said, sitting on the couch next to Zack and helping herself to a handful of chips.

"That sucks."

"You brought your bass, do you wanna play?" Zack asked.

"Eh…" Katie shook her head, then held out her left hand.

"What?"

"Look at my fingers," she instructed. "You can take the Band-Aids off."

Freddy watched as Zack took her hand in both of his. Carefully, he peeled the Hello Kitty Band-Aids off her four small fingers, to reveal gleaming deep red cuts across the tips. He sucked air in through his teeth. "Ouch."

She laughed, a little nervously. "Play till you bleed…."

"Jeez, Katie, why do you have to be so dedicated?" Freddy said. "You're going to make the rest of us look bad. Dewey's going to ask me why I don't have carpal tunnel syndrome or something." He went back to his drums and began tapping out a beat with new vigor.

"It's not like he noticed," Katie said softly.

Zack looked at her fingers again. The cuts were old, and obviously irritated, as she'd kept playing and ignoring them. He closed her hand gently.

"Maybe you should take a break."

"Steel bass strings are just so much sharper and stuff than cello strings," she said, pulling her hand away. "They'll heal. But, anyway, that's why I don't feel like playing right now."

"I don't blame you," Zack said.

"That's okay, me and Zack will serenade you," said Freddy, winking. "Come on Zack, stop slacking. Black Dog. Now."

"Alright! Hang on a sec." He dove over the couch, pulling out his guitar and plugging into his portable amp.

The boys started playing, and a smile grew on Katie's face. She looked so comfortable, sitting on the couch in Freddy's basement, tapping out the beat with her foot and mouthing the words. Zack was glad she'd come. He was glad he could play for her. _I'm happy that she's happy…wait that sounds gay…oh, screw it._

In the pleasantness of the evening, Zack forgot to think about the fact that his mom was at the doctor's somewhere. He didn't think of it while he and Freddy jammed for Katie, or when they all three played video games, or even when Katie had to go home. He didn't think of it while he and Freddy watched Spinal Tap, or while they slept on the floor. It wasn't until the next day, as they poured bowls of cereal for their 11 AM breakfast, that it crossed Zack's mind and he mentioned it to his friend.

"What, has your mom been sick or something?"

He shook his head, his mouth full of Fruit Loops. "Nope."

Freddy appeared to be thinking, which disturbed Zack a little.

"Where did they say they were going?"

"Ringfield," Zack answered.

Freddy snapped his fingers. "Dude, that's where the hospital is."


End file.
